East Wind: West Wind: The Saga of a Chinese Family
Pearl S. Buck
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Nobel winner Pearl S. Buck’s classic debut novel, about one Chinese woman’s coming of age as she’s torn between Eastern and Western cultures.
Kwei-lan is a traditional Chinese girl—taught by her mother to submit in all things, “as a flower submits to sun and rain alike.” Her marriage was arranged before she was born. As she approaches her wedding day, she’s surprised by one aspect of her anticipated life: Her husband-to-be has been educated abroad and follows many Western ideas that Kwei-lan was raised to reject. When circumstances push the couple out of the family home, Kwei-lan finds her assumptions about tradition and modernity tested even further.
East Wind: West Wind is a sensitive, early exploration of the cross-cultural themes that went on to become a hallmark of Buck’s acclaimed novels.
This ebook features an illustrated biography of Pearl S. Buck including rare images from the author’s estate.
courtyard I put aside the satin curtain and entered into my mother’s room. To my surprise she was lying on the bed with a single tall candle lit on the table beside her. I had never seen her there in my life before. She looked exceedingly frail and tired. Her eyes were closed and her lips pale and drawn down. I went softly to the bedside and stood there. Her face was absolutely colorless, a grave, delicate face and very sad. “My mother,” I said gently. “My child,” she answered. I hesitated,
abhorrence, an unsympathetic listener, But now? Let your fingers sing the old songs of love, the songs of the poets.” Then did I rise and fetch my harp, and laying it upon the little stone table beside him, I stood and touched its strings while I meditated what to sing to him. At last I sang thus, “Cool is the autumn wind, Clear is the autumn moon. The dead leaves fall and scatter again; A raven, frost-smitten, starts from the tree. Where are you, Beloved? Shall I meet you once more? Ah,
his eyes and fanned himself in silence for a few moments, and his irritation passed away. His usual look of peaceful, smiling good humor came over his face. He opened his eyes and pressed cakes upon my son, saying, “Eat, my little one! What does it all matter? Do not fret yourself, my daughter. Can a son disobey his father and live? I cannot be troubled.” Still was I not content, and after a silence, I had more that must be spoken. “But, my father, if he refuse to marry his betrothed? I have
nothing of my explanations. This, though I had planned my speech with all care! I said in my heart, “I will awaken in her memories of her own marriage and of those first days of my father’s love, when she was at the time of her own great beauty and youth.” But how can such stiff and formal molds as words contain the spirit-essence of love? It is as if one tried to imprison a rosy cloud within an iron vessel. It is like painting butterflies with a harsh brush of bamboo. When I spoke, hesitating
of the world, my little sister—to you and to me both.” I smiled again at her. I see how it is that she has drawn my brother’s heart out of him and holds it fast! Now has their child come to us, My Sister! I have received him in my arms from the hands of Wang Da Ma. Murmuring and laughing with pride she gave him to me. I gazed upon him with eagerness. He is a man child, a child of strength and vigor. It is true that he is not beautiful as my son is beautiful. A son like my husband’s and mine